


while the earth spins

by cosetties



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Angst, Banter, Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mutual Pining, literally just 3k words on the evolution of isak's sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 18:26:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9001573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosetties/pseuds/cosetties
Summary: In this universe, boys he liked couldn’t like him back. They were straight, they had girlfriends, and reading more into it only led to disaster. He wanted to be with them. He wanted to be them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Tried to write angst and it turned into fluff. Happy holidays, everyone!

“You’re my best friend, you know?” Jonas said. He was always more relaxed when they were high, and Isak wasn’t sure what to do with this freer, looser Jonas. Jonas flung his hand through his curly hair and threw his head back, dangerously close to landing on Isak’s shoulder. The space between them buzzed with possibility. “Shit, bro, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Isak almost laughed. Jonas had no fucking idea.

Elias had gotten better at convincing Jonas to ignore Eva’s concerns lately, and Isak wished he had that kind of power too. He had stepped out to McDonald’s, and the closest one was less than a block away from his house. Elias would be back any minute, but Isak couldn’t help but feel like he and Jonas had been alone for ages. Hell, he felt like that even when they were surrounded by people.

Falling in love with Jonas had been the inevitable product of proximity and hormones. Here he was, shining and perfect and his _best friend –_ what could Isak have done? He was gone from Jonas’s first rant about capitalism sucking the soul out of Norway’s youth, from the first time Jonas played a love song on his guitar while staring right past Isak. He hated the person he became for Jonas. Worse, Jonas would never even know. 

“You’re so high.” Isak shoved at Jonas’s shoulder. “Dude, if you were any higher, you’d fly into the sun. And die, probably.”

Jonas chuckled. “Are you saying I don’t tell you how I feel about you when I’m sober?” Isak squealed as Jonas grabbed him into a headlock to aggressively noogie him. Jonas’s fist mussed up Isak’s hair, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “This is your reminder, man.”

“Okay, okay, I get it, _stop,”_ Isak laughed.

The door banged open as Elias returned, McDonald’s bags in hand. Jonas and Isak jumped apart.

Elias looked between them suspiciously, eyes lingering on Isak’s flushed face, his heavy breathing. He was too observant for his own good. “What’s up?” he said, slowly.

“Trying to remind Isak that he’s my best bro,” Jonas said.

Elias shoved Isak’s Egg McMuffin at him and winked. “If you don’t watch out, I might steal him.”

And wouldn’t that just make Isak’s already fucked up life.  

Elias and Jonas went back to their conversation about Drake and Future’s dope new mixtape, and Isak went back to fiddling with the strings on his hoodie. He knew, logically, that it would never work with Jonas. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted anything to happen, or if this was just a goddamn phase. Teenage hormones gone awry.

Jonas threw his head back to laugh, and Isak couldn’t bring himself to look away.  

* * *

Sometimes, Isak wondered if he was destined for self-destruction, as if some traitorous part of his brain wanted him to fight against himself every day of his life. Don’t like that song, Isak, it’s too gay. Don’t watch Ryan Gosling’s entire filmography just because of Ryan Gosling’s jawline. Don’t look at too much porn, it’ll become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

The rules in his head stopped him from stepping over a line, to something he couldn’t even name. He couldn’t be one of those guys who were out and proud with their mascara and tights and gay bars. He liked hip-hop, for God’s sake, and he’d probably poke out his own eye if he ever attempted mascara. His version of dancing consisted of awkwardly bobbing his head, moving his shoulders if he was feeling particularly into it. Sure, he knew Lady Gaga’s The Fame Monster by heart, but that was only because Jonas had taken a break from his vendetta against pop and admitted that it was a work of pure art.

If he ever wondered what his life would be like if he let himself break those rules, one by one, well, he wouldn’t let himself wonder for long. 

So Isak kept kissing girls at parties. He’d even dated Sara for a bit. It wasn’t lying, really, not if he _could_ like them back. Kissing wasn’t horrible, and he’d never kissed a boy anyway. How could he be sure it’d be better? Lips were gross and wet. Maybe he just hadn’t found the right girl. Finding your soulmate at seventeen was a little pathetic anyway, and Isak wouldn’t have any of that.

“How do I get girls? _”_ Magnus begged one day in the cafeteria. He’d apparently tried to hook up with a hot blonde over the weekend, only to find her making out with another guy in the bathroom. Someone hotter, smoother, entirely more comfortable with himself. “Jonas just stares at them, and it somehow works.” Jonas scoffed into his burger, and shot Isak a look. Isak shrugged back. Jonas had befriended Magnus first. It wasn’t his responsibility.

Magnus clapped Isak on the back, and Isak grimaced. “Isak, you and me, we’re normal bros. We have to work for it. Teach me how to talk to them.”

The irony was enough to make Shakespeare roll over in his grave.

Isak rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, dude, maybe don’t talk at all?”

Magnus sighed, slumping down in his seat. “Now you’re just being a dick. What if I never get to fuck a girl?”

Isak almost laughed. _What if_ , indeed.

“I think you’d live,” said Jonas. “Look at Isak. He talks a lot of shit, but…” He waggled his – admittedly very expressive – eyebrows.

That night, Jonas, Mahdi, and Magnus dragged him to a party at a third-year’s apartment. His mouth still tasted like lemonade vodka when he kissed a nameless brunette in the coat closet. He knew where this was leading. He heard her giggle “my place?” against his lips, saw her pulling him out the door like it was happening to someone else entirely, someone who could enjoy it was much as he should. God, he was a failure. 

“I have to go home. My roommate’s sick, and I have to take care of him,” he muttered instead, prying his hand out of her grip. Her face fell, but the alcohol would blunt the rejection somewhat.

He was still up at 2AM, watching Crazy, Stupid, Love for the fifth time.

* * *

Even Bech Næsheim was the kind of dream that was better off as a nightmare, if only to keep Isak away.

The moment he’d made eye contact with Even in the cafeteria, he’d wanted _more._ Maybe Even had just been there at the right time. Kissing Emma that weekend had made the ugly truth tear at his insides. Maybe Even could’ve been replaced by any tall, handsome, blond boy with a nice smile and the kind of confident swagger that Isak could never pull off, even with NWA blasting through his earphones. Maybe if Isak had fallen for that guy instead, his life wouldn’t have gone to shit.  

He knew it was too good to be true. If Even inviting him to his home, laughing at his dumb jokes, had seemed like an absurd quirk of fate, seeing him kiss Sonja was just the world righting itself.

That didn’t mean it hurt any less.  

“Eskild, why do you think every guy out there is gay?” he’d asked once, but how was he any different? He had, for a moment, mistaken Even’s friendliness for something more. It was a side effect of the shitty cheese bread, the high, the music that was still reverberating through his bones.

What kind of reality did he think he was living in? In this universe, boys he liked couldn’t like him back. They were straight, they had girlfriends, and reading more into it only led to disaster. He wanted to be with them. He wanted to _be_ them.  

It took him three hours to fall asleep that night.

* * *

When Even first kissed him, Isak felt like his lungs would collapse, and the pool water had nothing to do with it. Isak couldn’t stop himself from clutching at Even like he was Isak’s personal lifejacket. Gravity couldn't hold him back; he'd never felt more grounded. He couldn’t breathe; he’d been breathing too long and had to start kissing Even again. It was too much, too little, and Isak didn’t know when he’d be able to find a happy medium.

His insides were collapsing as Even pressed wet kisses to his lips, and he wasn’t sure he should stop them.  

When they finally dried off and found themselves lying in bed side by side, Isak let himself want _._ Even’s full lips, the messy hair that he usually styled to perfection, the entire length of his body. Isak let himself drink it in. Even was the kind of gorgeous it would take Isak months to recover from. He had a boy in his bed, and the world was still spinning.

Isak’s stomach growled. “We should probably get out of bed at some point. Make breakfast. Whatever,” he said as he played with the strings of Even’s hoodie. “I think my roommates are out right now. Eskild hasn’t nagged me in an hour.”

Even pursed his lips. “You don’t happen to have gross cheese that you left out all day, right? It’s the only thing I’ll eat, you know.”

“You’re living the dream.”

“Builds up my tolerance. I’m pretty hardcore, if you didn’t realize.”

“Is that what the hip-hop’s about?”

Even wrapped an arm around Isak’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “No, that was just to get you to like me.”

It couldn’t be this easy. Being with Even required no second-guessing, and he’d jumped into it without the stress that plagued every other decision he made. Isak wasn’t used to this, but as Even ran a hand down his thigh, he couldn’t complain.

Even put two fingers under Isak’s chin to tilt his face up, planting another kiss on his lips. It shook him down to his toes.

Isak pulled his hoodie tight around his body and curled into Even. “On second thought, who needs food?”

* * *

After he told the guys about Even, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. “Maybe I’m a little gay,” he’d admitted. It was the barest of confessions. He might never be as confident as Eskild, but he could give himself this.

“Gay,” he repeated later in his room, just to test it on his tongue.  

He wanted to repeat it again, once, a hundred times. As long as it took for the truth to stick, until it stopped feeling like a discovery. Because he’d been saying it all along, hadn’t he? Not with the right words, maybe, but he’d been getting there, broken rule by broken rule, step by step.

Later, after Even wound up on his doorstep against all odds, after Isak could finally look into his bathroom mirror and recognize the boy staring back, he texted his Dad. _That’s a boy’s name._

He’d have to tell his mom soon, and that would probably end in tears for both of them. His friends already knew. Hell, the entire school was buzzing with the rumors. A year ago – no, even a week ago – the idea seemed like one of Isak’s nightmares come to life. Now, it seemed more like an inevitable consequence of him living his damn life.

And maybe that wasn’t so bad.

* * *

Even always looked softer in Isak’s clothes, even when the sleeves of his hoodie struggled to cover Even’s long arms. Isak wanted to steal away whatever product Even used in his hair just to keep him this open and attainable every once in a while. Isak wasn’t the flustered boy Even had first met anymore, but even now, it was hard to believe that Even had somehow picked him out of the crowd and found him worthy of notice.

It was still difficult, sometimes, not to tiptoe around Even, to care more for his health than for _him_. Sonja had crossed that line time and time again. Sometimes, he couldn’t help but worry that Even had misplaced his trust. Isak’s Internet searches could only do so much, even with Even’s parents and Sonja for support. 

Now, though, with his head pillowed on Even’s shoulder as they wrapped up watching But I’m a Cheerleader with his roommates, it was all too easy to take things as slowly as he liked.

“This movie is a work of art,” Even declared as the credits started rolling. “I mean, look at the _aesthetic.”_ Even watched movies with his whole being. He’d played along with exaggerated reactions, and Isak could hardly tell it was Even’s third time watching it.

Eskild always insisted on choosing the movie. Isak had expected Even to put up a fight, but he’d fallen in step with Isak’s friends so quickly that Isak really should’ve known he’d support Eskild’s choices completely, even when Isak would rather steal Even to his room. So far, they’d gone through Brokeback Mountain, Blue is the Warmest Color, and the first three episodes of Queer as Folk. Subtlety wasn’t Eskild’s strong suit.

Isak shook his head, fond. “You say that about every movie we see together.”

Even wrapped his arms around Isak’s waist to pull him closer, almost into his lap. It wouldn’t be the worst thing. “That’s because we’ve never seen Transformers together. Or The Last Airbender. Or fucking Sharknado – actually, an argument can be made for that - ”

Noora, Eskild, and Linn exchanged a look.

“We’ll leave you two to it,” Noora said.

Eskild patted Isak on the shoulder. “Remember that this is public area, you wild kids.”

As Eskild rounded the corner to his room, he flashed them a thumbs up. 

“I hate them,” Isak said, slumping into the couch. “We’re the most exciting thing that’s happened to them in months.”

“It’s true. Remember on Wednesday when we actually left your bed? Exciting stuff.”

“Shit, wasn’t that the day we _didn’t_ just grab coffee and fast food?” 

Even clutched a hand to his heart. “We betrayed KB.”

Isak couldn’t stop the smile that threatened to split his face in half. Fuck if everyone realized how desperate he was. As long as Even knew, he didn’t give a shit.

Only two months ago, Isak had to physically stop himself from smiling too widely around Even, afraid that it would give him away. He’d been scared that Even wouldn’t smile back – or worse, if he did. If he didn’t reciprocate, Isak could live his life as he always had. If he did, then, that was an altogether more difficult battle to fight.

It was worth it if Isak could have this, Even lounging on his couch like it was the most natural thing, as if it had always been this simple.

The credits ended, and the TV turned black. Isak wasn’t even aware that they’d left it on.

He tilted his head back to face Even. “I’ve always wondered, why do you like love stories so much?”

Even eyed the ceiling, thinking. He sighed. “I don’t know – I like the concept of soulmates, don’t you? The whole idea of being made for your first love.” He snorted, “Not that it worked out for me.”

“Sonja?” Isak couldn’t help the twinge of bitterness. He’d forgiven her for what she’d said to him that night, but he couldn’t entirely forgive how she’d treated Even, especially when Even’s face soured every time Isak brought her up.

Even only smiled weakly and patted down a flyaway curl that poked out from under Isak’s snapback. “Good thing I have you to put up with my shit now.”

“Could be a lot worse than Sonja. Jonas never even noticed.” Isak’s laugh fell dry on his lips. He couldn’t brush it off now. Eva knew for sure, and Isak was beginning to think Jonas had his suspicions, but he’d kept his first year bottled up so tightly in his chest he didn’t know what to do with it. It felt like lifetimes ago – the sad, desperate story of a sad, lost boy.

Even was no Eskild, but he was confident in his sexuality all the same. Isak still ducked away from his kisses around strangers. Maybe he’d spent so long hiding that he’d never be able to stop.

No, that wasn’t right. He’d grown up since then. The number of pictures Eskild had of them on his phone was bordering on criminal, and when Even stared at him too intensely around his friends, Isak let himself look back. 

Even’s lips quirked. “Was it the hair, the skateboarding, the obsession with vinyl…”

Isak shook his head. “It’s so fucking embarrassing. Liking your straight best friend, what a cliché.”

Even’s smile was kind. He ran his thumb over the back of Isak’s neck. “It’s not. Your feelings are your own.”

He had taken so long to get to this point that it was almost unfair that Even could sum it up in a sentence. Even could read him so easily, even when he wanted to hide. Especially then, when Isak felt the most vulnerable, and when he verged on something too real.   

Even pulled Isak’s legs so they stretched across his lap, and he could stroke Isak’s thighs more easily. “Besides, liking your best friend isn’t too bad. I’ve done it twice. I’d say it has a 50% chance of success.”

Isak was sure his blush would fix itself to his face permanently. He had to throw the remote at Even, who only laughed at him. “That’s the grossest thing I’ve heard you say. Worse than when you described Vladimir Putin and Captain America’s love affair in detail.”

Even’s voice dropped. “But imagine Steve defending the American Dream in the freezing Russian winter. All he needs is someone to warm him up, and out of nowhere, Vladimir Putin…” 

* * *

I know Pride is in a few months, but is it okay if Even and I come with you?

_Eskild_

20.21

You should pay me for professional guru advising, I’m so good.

By the way, your friend Sana's makeup is scary good? Ask her for mascara recs for me. 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to talk/cry with me about Skam before S4 gets here, I'm on tumblr at [adamparishe](http://adamparishe.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
